#atlas' poetry

[thatrando13]

I'm quite proud of this so I thought to share it, here's some poetry.

Run with you Mountains and the shining sun I stare for hours The beauty of the flowers Mesmerised, all I want to do is run Run with you Through the fields Through the forest, wooden shields A beautiful view Hands raised to the sky As we lay in the grass No other moment can surpass On a mountain, up so high A laugh, a smile All I want to see But you are across the sea And it may be awhile Awhile until I find you Awhile until I say hello Awhile until it is so Awhile until I show you the view Let's run, you and me Run till we can run no more With so much left to explore Feeling so free Fin.

I hope you like it :]

-> Atlas

[crepusculescence]

— Passage from The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

[firenaition]

thinking about what zuko means to azula and weeping. he's a traitor but he's your brother. he held you when you were born. he's banished for being too weak to hurt your father and you learn to hate his goodness. he is somewhere in the world carrying your eyes. he misses your absent mother more than he loves you but that is the price you pay for being the one who stayed. he never grants you this same kindness. you are faster and deadlier and better but it doesn't change the fact that your brave big brother used to tell you stories of dragons every time it stormed because you were so afraid of the thunder. he is the only one who understands what it means to bear the brunt of your bloody inheritance. he crumbled under the weight of it, but you stayed. you always stay. he is half of you. you hate being betrayed.

you don't love him. he's your big brother. who could you possibly love more?

[demaparbat-hp]

Imperfect Canvass

Read on AO3.

It's easy to forget, there, in Caldera. So they do everything in their power to remember. . The Blue Spirit and the Painted Ghost meet in the city each night, two souls in eternal search for repentance. Katara tries to find a way to kill the war, whatever it takes. Zuko, the Perfect Prince, offers her the only pieces of him that remain.

[rvieskie]

girls just wanna have fun an academic year with a ridiculously small class that might be considered essentially a cult in a field that’s tragically pretentious and consists of only the best of the best - the elite in their particular field where everyone is hot, evil and gay, everyone fucks everyone but they all hate eachother and hurt eachother yet are bound together with this inexplicable need and entanglement up in eachother, someone prophecized to die, power and knowledge driving each of them to a state of madness, found family in a sense but the family is fucked up and the chemistry and connection between all of them is so bright that it might burn all of them alive and they’d be happy to burn because this was the precipice they were reaching for anyways, so much power and so much obsession and so much passion and mania with the academia and even more so eachother and they fuck eachother up and fix eachother all at once and ohmygod GIVE ME IT

[bluespiritshonour]

he is

a cat

therefore

he gets

picked up like one

[hyperfocusthusly]

Rage, I have learnt to wear.

My mother’s grief, however,

folds my spine and lives beneath my ribs.

it gets heavier and heavier

|| Line art ||

[thoughtkick]

You can be happy wrapped up in things that are bad for you. And things that are good for you can make you absolutely miserable.

Katy Atlas, Moving In Reverse

[resqectable]

You can be happy wrapped up in things that are bad for you. And things that are good for you can make you absolutely miserable.

Katy Atlas, Moving In Reverse

[elizabethminkel]

My latest Atlas Obscura column is live! This one was a total delight to report: back in my college town for a visit last month, I stopped by the (Emily) Dickinson Homestead to talk with its staff about their recent acquisition of props, furniture, etc. from the Apple TV+ show, which now makes the house work on multiple fan-tourism levels!

I really loved hearing about how they try to meet different kinds of fans' needs in different ways—especially fitting since the property has been welcoming Dickinson "pilgrims" for more than a century:

“We like to say that everybody who identifies as a fan who’s coming through our doors has their own Emily Dickinson,” Steinhauser says. “They encountered her poetry in school, or they stumbled across her during the pandemic—because there were all these memes about her as a ‘Queen Recluse’—or they watched Apple TV+, and they loved the idea of a gay Emily Dickinson, and they want to connect with that.” ... Visitors bring these different versions ... “wanting to touch something of that, and it’s our very difficult job to meet them wherever they are, with whatever version of Dickinson they have connected with, and try to walk with them a little further down the road with whatever knowledge we can provide to them.”

P.S. if you're a Dickinson fan, by pure coincidence, this wound up going live on the first day of this year's Tell It Slant Poetry Festival, which runs through the weekend. It's a hybrid event and it's free!

[thatrando13]

Hear no more Outside the rain, it pours Outside my door I hear a cry And I know it is yours I watch out my window with a fearful eye The thunder's rumble can not compare To the cries of you outside my door I am filled with despair For you are difficult to ignore Your cries, how loud they sound I lean against the wood Begging the lock to stay wound I am sorry, please, I know you can be good Leaning against my door, I begin to sob The rain is still pouring, I wish you to drown For it is my soul you wish to rob The rain continues to fall down I hear more than just your cries now I hear you, so close just the door between us Do not turn the handle, unfasten the lock, if you know how I would not be able to keep the door shut as thus Heart beating in my ears I beg of you Please do not cry anymore, The sky so grey, not a hint of blue I can not open the door Leave me in peace For you make me weep Your crying, let it cease Lest my soul you reap Fin.

-> Atlas

[perfectquote]

You can be happy wrapped up in things that are bad for you. And things that are good for you can make you absolutely miserable.

Katy Atlas, Moving In Reverse

[firenaition]

[srisrisriddd]

Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS

From the one all things originate What a waste of time to choose Since the voidless void gives birth to all Embrace them all and let prejudices die - Dr Devang H Dattani

Good Morning

Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS (See Video)

Quote / Poem / Poetry / Quotes Of 

Bhagwan Sri Sri Sri

Doctor Devang H Dattani

Infinite SriSriSri DDD

Posted By TheBlissCity DDD Team

See The Media Photo Video For

Quoteoftheday

God Morning

#One , #All , #things , #bliss , #TheBlissCity , #philosophy , #mindfulness , #DrDevangHDattani , #nature , #awareness , #InfiniteSriSriSriDDD , #quotes , #life , #art , #zen , #awakening , #quote , #spiritual , #photography , #Video , #meditation , #psychology , #poem , #poetry , #motivation , #inspiration , #quoteoftheday , #love , #words , #thoughts , #joy , #pun , #enlightenment , #health , #mental health , #consciousness , #good , #god , #life , #thoughts , #nirvana , #tantra , #yoga , #void , #voidless , #orignate , #prejudice , #birth , #time , #choose , #photooftheday , #panorama , #mountains , #comet , #video , #Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS , #astronomy , #science , #skyscape , #night sky

[petricorah]

Sokka was used to the cold.

He’d spent his whole life in it. He was born into frigid and bitter temperatures. He was used to breathing burning crisp air into his lungs, used to walking when he could barely feel his feet, used to sleeping surrounded by ice, and used to the coldness that struck deep into his heart while staring out over the empty tundra. He loved it. Just the feel of winter winds whipping through his hair made his spirits soar, smiling despite the pain of icy gales against his teeth.

And then.

He melted, slowly. Traveling the world had been quite the culture shock, and he had taken some time to adjust to no longer being surrounded by snow, but he grew to love the pleasant lukewarm air and the ability to wear short sleeves. But the firebender was another thing entirely.

Being close to Zuko was as uncomfortable it was so hot. The man’s very skin was a furnace that radiated heat, and somehow, it made Sokka’s own cheeks and chest burn for reasons he didn’t understand for years. But he got used to it. Despite how stubborn he was, Sokka was good at adapting. He was still from the water tribe, after all. Soon, the heat pulsing off of Zuko as they brushed shoulders or fought side by side wasn’t unnatural. It became welcome, especially…

Well. It was purely strategic to put their sleeping bags side by side, because once the campfire died down, laying by Zuko with their shoulders almost touching was the only way to stave off the brisk night air.  

He wasn’t sure when it changed, when the embers of their friendship sparked into something more. They’d travelled the world together, trying to rebuild the world ravaged by the Fire Nation. Zuko refused to stay behind a desk, and Sokka refused to let him go at it alone. And slowly but surely, Sokka forgot what it was like to be cold. What it was like to not have Zuko by his side, to feel his warmth surround him like he was the center of a fire, the comforting lull of heat as he hugged him, that fiery, caring temper, and blazing hot fingers interlaced with his own.

And now, he was back in the Southern Water Tribe.

Alone.

And he has never felt so painfully…cold.

[quotefeeling]

You can be happy wrapped up in things that are bad for you. And things that are good for you can make you absolutely miserable.

Katy Atlas, Moving In Reverse